Photos you should never post to your online dating profile

We’re SUPPOSED to read each profile carefully to determine goodness-of-fit. But let’s face it, the first thing we do is scope out those pics. So here are a few tips to help you get your profile in tip top shape (Mark, Grant, and John).

1.  No ten year old photos of yourself. You’re fooling no one.  Also avoid pics with excessive alcohol (see below):

image2.  No bathroom selfie (FYI, I’m covered in a honey treatment for my hair. Very sticky and very gooey.)

image3. No half-naked men shots. Just don’t.

image4. No photo of you doing something that doesn’t make sense (like eating a bug).

image5. No group shot. Boring!

image6.  No pic with your ex cropped out.


I’m a man-eating whore (just kidding)

I’m a man-eating whore.

At least I MUST be since I write this blog about sex, dating, and relationships.

Okay, maybe I don’t write about relationships. But trust me, if I had a relationship, I would be writing about it.

Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy being single.  Every available (unmarried and unattached) man I meet is an opportunity to make a connection.

But there are times when being the single girl sucks.

Like when a married woman assumes if you’re talking to her husband you’ve got designs on him.

Or when you’re the only single at a couples party (á la Bridget Jones).

Or. . .

. . .when the wife of a friend CONTACTS YOUR SISTER to accuse you of trying to steal her husband because. . .

. . .wait for it. . .

. . .you replied to his IM on Facebook.


So there you have it.

This man-eating whore with the trashy blog is obviously so lacking in morals she would message A MARRIED MAN.

Better put a scarlet letter on me. Or maybe stamp “tramp” on my forehead.

Obviously, I’ve committed a grievous offense.

You know what I have to say about it?



Far from the maddening crowd

I’m looking for alternatives to standing around the man watching him burn on Saturday night at Burning Man this year.

It’s always fun to be there but this year, post Gilroy shooting, I’m very wary of crowds.

I feel uniquely vulnerable in a crowd, especially when there’s no shelter apart from art cars and the like.

But there’s seriously so many people and bikes around, it’s not like the art cars could go anywhere to escape.

If I had to run, where would I go?

It’s all flat desert.

I posted to my Village my intention to hang back from the crowd.

Or at the very least find out what the options are, even if I decide to still watch the burn from its perimeter.

And wouldn’t you know it, they came up with a whole bunch of alternative locations to watch the man burn.

Find a comfy space on some tall playa art.

Sit on top a geodesic dome.

Watch from the Esplanade.

I love my Village.

And I’m sorry too that I don’t seem to have the mental fortitude to withstand watching the man burn from the sidelines.

I’ve been thinking it might be wise to talk to a professional about what I’m experiencing.

I might have a touch of PTSD.

One thing is for sure, it’s going to be a different kind of burn for me this year because I feel so vulnerable post Garlic Festival shooting.

My friends are kind enough and understanding enough to be patient with me as I recover from the stress of knowing I was at the same festival as an active shooter and missed him by a narrow window of time.

In a way, Burning Man is the perfect place to go to heal from the trauma.

Crazy little thing called love

I’ve noticed a new trend popping up on Tinder.

Men posting profile pictures with them posing with models.

I have one thing to say about this:


I get that models are beautiful women.

They’re photogenic and look amazing.

But really?

I don’t want to see a future boyfriend posing with a HUGE smile on his face while he poses with these models.

It makes me think that they’re modelizers and looking for the same in a partner.

Legs for days and a face to make the angels weep.

Since they don’t seem to have a clue, I’ll give them a big hint about online dating profile pictures:

We want to see you with your dog, having fun with your best friend, perhaps even a family shot with the kids.

But NOT with models.

Which is why I like the newest man to email me.

We’ll call him The Giant.

He’s Scandinavian and Scottish with a hint of German in him.

He’s also 6’3” which isn’t something I look for but it certainly doesn’t harm his sex appeal.

The Giant and I have a lot in common.

More importantly, we reviewed our red flags together and I’m happy to report he is a monogamous man with lots of hobbies and interests who has been divorced for several years now and has a good job and education.

However, as vanilla as he sounds, he has friends in the alternative community and he would easily fit in at Burning Man, unSCruz, the Bare Burn, or a naturist resort.

He’s open-minded, which I like.

Wish me luck.

I’m trying my hand at this crazy little thing called love.


New tattoo

Not long ago, I went on a tattoo bender.

My sister, ever the enabler, took me to tattoo shops in Reno and in the span of less than 2 years I went from ZERO tattoos to FIVE tattoos.

Then I stopped (in large part because I got cellulitis from my last tattoo) and since then no artist has added any ink to my body.

My SON, on the other hand, opted to get a tattoo to reflect his love of the United States of America.

As is practice in our family, he enlisted the help of my sister to get his tattoo:

Now personally I WOULD NEVER get this kind of a tattoo.

But I love the ink on him and I must say, despite the unusual location of the tattoo (on the back of his forearm), it suits him well.

He is BEYOND happy with his tattoo and I imagine that it’s the first of many that he will get.

And clearly he’s not afraid of his tattoos showing, like I am.

My hips, ankle, foot and shoulder blade are tattooed and all of them can be hidden, if need be.

I think, given his current occupation of soldier, that it’s a pretty neat tattoo to get.

At least he didn’t accidentally get a polyamory tattoo on his shoulder.


There’s a wellness program at my work that assesses our fitness on an annual basis.

I skipped taking the assessment for the last two years but this year (since I get paid to do it), I took the assessment.

Lo and behold, I am in WORSE shape than I was in 2012.

Le duh.

Just so you know, it takes a tremendous amount of strength and character to get your health measured when you know it’s pretty bad.

I found out that in seven years I’ve gained 55 pounds.


How does that happen?

Well, I’ll tell you how:

  1. Eating too much food and beverages (specifically alcoholic beverages)
  2. Not working out enough
  3. Skipping daily weigh ins
  4. Living a sedentary lifestyle.

As it turns out, I’m only too aware that I can’t continue on this path.

Therefore, I’ve begun a fitness regimen.

I’m weighing myself EVERY DAY and going for walks on a regular basis.

I’m working myself up to 10,000 steps a day.

If you ask me what has changed between this post and my last post on dieting, I can tell you this – I AM EXERCISING.

And that’s new for me.

Usually I try to lose weight with only dieting.

But I see the importance of working out regularly now and I’m committed to being a dedicated dieter and adding exercise into my daily routine.

Truth be told, my cousin Jennifer has also inspired me to get fit.

She herself modified her diet and added exercise into her daily routine and now she looks even more fabulous than she always has.

She gives me a success story I can relate to.

Hopefully, in a few months I’ll be well on my way to better health, leaving my days of sloth and gluttony behind me.

Just watch me!

Packing for Burning Man

I have barely started packing for Burning Man.

This is unusual in that I typically am packed and playa-ready MONTHS ahead of time.

Not so this trip.

Although, under the encouragement of Tejas, I did put on all the new shoes I bought JUST TO BE SURE THEY FIT.

It’s a good thing Tejas reminded me to test out my shoes because TWO PAIRS did not fit.

The pink quinceañera sneakers and the black orthopedic flip flops did not fit.

So I’m tossing them and replacing them with different shoes, which I will not only test to make sure they fit, but also wear around a little bit at home to make sure they’re comfortable.

These are the lessons you learn after a few failures on playa.

I’ve also tested my costumes to make sure they fit.

Nothing worse than getting to the playa only to discover that the jean shorts you selected to wear with three different outfits is too tight to button.

True story.

My gift to the playa this year is a recycled gift.

I have leftovers of my custom engraved, Burning Man credit-card size bottle opener which I will be giving away to my campmates.

We work in a bar camp, so a bottle opener is an appropriate gift to give (and I had leftovers from 2017).

I can’t believe it’s just a little over a week away until I leave for the playa!

I’m so not ready!


It’s not what you’re thinking.

I’m not going to tell another story about some guy’s tacky advances on Tinder.


Or mention again that I got ghosted by the last guy I dated.

Instead I’m going to share with you that I got a little action last weekend.


It’s been months since that happened and I was happy to break my abstinence streak, or so I thought.

Turns out, when you haven’t done the deed for a while, things down there aren’t as robust as they normally are.

And vigorous activity can lead to some discomfort.

I spent the night at a friend’s house.

I’m not one to turn down ANOTHER romp in the hay but let me tell you, it is possible to DO IT TOO MUCH.

And then you have to stop.

Briefly, I thought, “Well, MAYBE I can sneak in another session without my nethers screaming too loudly at me that it hurts. . . “

But no, I must inform you that there are times in a woman’s life when her vagina must exert dominance over her libido with a loud and resounding, “NOPE!”

New man = new bedding

I have a thing about bedding.

Every time I get a new boyfriend, I get new bedding.


It just seems wrong to sleep with a different man in sheets christened by his predecessor.

Am I right?

No jokes about how much bedding I should have, btw.

It all started 8 years ago.

I had beautiful red floral IKEA bedding which I slept in with my then-boyfriend Jay.

I have pictures I took of him smiling at me from among those red sheets and the images are burned into my brain.

I don’t even need to close my eyes and I can see his face and those sheets.

So it was necessary when we split to gift that bedding to my sister’s spare bedroom.

And thus a habit was born.

New man = new bedding.

Needless to say, I’ve been sleeping in the same bedding for years now and I finally allowed myself the luxury of buying new bedding NOT BECAUSE OF A NEW MAN but because I simply wanted new bedding.

Oh sure, I’m sure a new man will someday snuggle with me under that comforter, but until then this girl is happy sleeping solo in my new bedding!


New bedding christened in the Motor Beast at Burning Man 2016. Can you tell I like bright colors?

These are my “SINGLE WOMAN” linens.

Cut Throat      

Ever since my renewed experience with ghosting, I’ve become a menace at swiping left on Tinder and closing dead-end connections.

I’ve developed a method for weeding out inappropriate men:

  1. Do I want to swipe right when I see their picture(s)?
  2. If yes, then I review where they are from.
  3. If they are 25 miles or less from me, I read their profile (if there is one).
  4. If they are married, polyamorous, ethically non-monogamous, in an “open” relationship, not looking for a LTR or looking for hookups, I swipe left.

I’ve been feeling like a cut throat dater lately because I’ve been REALLY GOOD at closing connections that are dead ends (see above list).

One guy called me a pet name RIGHT OFF THE BAT, which I hate!

I am ‘sweetheart’ to my friends and family but a stranger has to earn the right to call me that.

Forged intimacy is a no-no in my book.

I closed the connection with him.

Another man clearly lived WAY TO FAR AWAY (don’t know how he missed my filter), but I quickly closed our connection as well.

It pays to filter your connections post swiping too.

Sometimes you wind up with someone who is just visiting the area and looking for an easy hookup.

Their profile looks good but they’re not local.

I close those connections too.

It’s not as if I need MORE ENCOURAGEMENT getting involved in long-distance relationships, despite the fact that I’m really looking for someone local.

Everything is closer than Sweden, however.

Now, as soon as the first red flag goes up, I cut bait and run.

Pics with guns.

Donald Trump supporters.

Flaky texting.

Dick pics.

All these things set off my radar and I exit quickly once I’ve beentriggered.

I’m not being bitchy, I’m being efficient.

I’m a cut throat when it comes to internet dating.